


Open Secrets

by moosewingz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (Hint: it isn't), (ahaha that sounds like it's Star Trek or something), (sort of), Character Study, F/M, Gen, Harry Potter Next Generation, Humor, Open Relationships, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-04
Updated: 2012-10-04
Packaged: 2017-11-15 15:39:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/528857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moosewingz/pseuds/moosewingz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Vic didn't explain it to you, did she?”</p><p>Rose has been keeping a secret from Teddy, but it turns out that he (and Victoire) might have been the one with a secret all along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Open Secrets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [enchantedteapot](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=enchantedteapot).



> So this suddenly happened when [enchantedteapot](http://enchantedteapot.livejournal.com/) mentioned that she sees the next-gen kids as being those sort of 'society darlings' who're famous just because of who their parents are, and that she thinks there's more to Victoire than meets the eye. It's the first HP fic I've written in a long time, and my first ever NextGen one! *g* So, yeah, I haven't entirely fixed who the characters are yet... Also, I hope it's clear at least by the end what's going on - I wanted to leave as much as I could to the reader's imagination, as a bit of an experiment, but if it doesn't work, do tell me and I'll give it a bit of a rework!
> 
> This also fills #011 'Only' from my [100_women](http://100-women.livejournal.com/) [prompt table](http://100-women.livejournal.com/) :)

Mostly, Rose has put it out of her mind – well, that's not true, it's not as if she's _forgotten_ or anything. As if she could. But she keeps the memories locked away and she's able to converse with her parents, her aunt and uncle, her brother and her cousins, like nothing out of the ordinary happened. They laugh as she waves her arms around, eyes wide and earnest and her voice bubbling with excitement, and eagerly look at all the photos she's brought back. 

Here she is in the dress Aunt Fleur gave her, and here they are sharing the biggest ice cream sundae Rose had ever seen, and here she is trying to duck away from the camera to hide her too-small duckling pyjamas, and here's their picnic on top of the Statue of Liberty from the day before she came back home and Vic had wanted to give her a treat--

And here's the one that was on the front page of every wizarding magazine in New York for a couple of days: Vic grabbing her hand, pulling her in and tucking her under her chin, pressing a teasing kiss onto the top of her hair. They looked quite a pair that night, when Victoire agreed to take her out to the première of a friend's new play; she'd insisted on dressing her up perfectly, spent hours fussing over details with a childish delight that Rose recognised from years ago, from mud fights and toppling out of trees. Vic had been pretty and smiling with her shimmering dress fluttering around her, blonde curls soft as they tumbled around her face, each ringlet painstakingly shaped the Muggle way because “magic may be convenient, Rose, darling, but it's no substitute for good, honest effort”. Rose knew she could never match up to Vic's effortless beauty or Aunt Fleur's natural elegance, but she'd felt like she did that evening – Vic had complimented her at every turn, lights dancing in her eyes, and even Rose had noticed how well the turquoise silk had brought out her eyes and her red, red hair under the old-fashioned gas lamps. 

For a few hours, Rose had let Vic show her how to embrace the adulation the world threw at them just because of their name, and they'd been the sweethearts of the city. Vic had positively blossomed as she twirled around the room, a flower opening its sparkling petals under the attention of the sun. Rose hadn't been so comfortable, but it had been surprisingly good fun.

Back in the present, everyone told her how beautiful she looked, surprise lurking behind their words, curling around the consonants as their eyes widened. Her mother immediately whipped the picture up and placed it carefully on the mantelpiece, sharing a quiet, fond look with Dad when Hugo exclaimed that he'd never known Rose could look so good. Rose just snorted and shoved him, keeping the memory to herself, safe behind a carefree grin and rude gesture at her brother before their parents turned round.

“Vic took me to see a play,” was all she said, tugging at her right earlobe absently. “One of her friends wrote it, and he got us free tickets. It was all a bit soppy, really, but Vic said it was more about the charm and flow of the language than the story.”

Dad sniggered, and the corner of Mum's mouth twitched even as she tutted at him. And Rose could breathe again when they accepted her explanation and let her tell them about the niffler that Fleur fed every morning when it tapped its snout on the glass of her little kitchen window.

After that, it was easy to relax back into the routine of home, to pass Vic's letters and greetings along to everyone, to get absorbed into sorting out life after Hogwarts, and before she knew it, months had passed and it was Christmas. Uncle Bill was delighted with the enchanted puzzle box they'd found tucked away in a little shop full of odds and ends, and Aunt Fleur gasped at the delicate scarf Rose had bought her. Dominique turned her nose up at the box of chocolates Vic had sent, but later Rose caught sight of her and Louis squabbling over the last champagne truffle. The Potters loved the personalised photo albums Vic had made for them, and they were immediately put aside to be stuffed full of memories before being tucked away with the rest of their collection. Rose snuggled into her newest warm, blue sweater, discussed job applications with Uncle Percy, and stole as many mince pies as she could before Gran rapped her over the knuckles with a ladle.

In fact, now that she was no longer waiting for someone to ask, to somehow know, Rose herself was starting to almost forget, to let it slip away into a pleasantly fuzzy daydream.

And of course, it was only then that she bumped into a freshly-arrived Teddy Lupin on her way to the bathroom.

“Teddy! I--” Suddenly, everything flooded back and her mouth dried up. He looked at her oddly, brushing snow-dusted hair out of his eyes. Today, it was damp and floppy and a vivid pink, reminiscent of the photos he'd shown her once of his mum and dad on their wedding day. 

“Rose? You all right there? I would've been here earlier, except just as my shift ended, we got word that the skrewts and acromantulas had mounted some sort of attack on each other's enclosures, so anyone who was still there had to go break it up. They even got last year's Weasley jumper, look!” He shoved his sleeve under her nose, and indeed almost half of it was missing, the wool around the edge of the hole crispy and black, a sure sign of someone who'd been handling an angry skrewt. The skin she could see was pink and new-looking, presumably the result of a healing after _he'd_ been caught in the blast as well; it was so ridiculously _Teddy_ to complain about his jumper when he'd got most of his forearm burned as well.

Normally, Rose would tease him – he might be a good eight years older than her, and already a world-renowned expert in the care and conservation of dangerous creatures, with two books and many travels to his name, but he was still the adopted cousin who'd given her piggybacks around the house and pulled silly faces at her over the dinner table just to make her laugh. But now, she couldn't think how to, because all of her was occupied with trying to stand under the devastating wave of guilt that was currently flooding through her.

“Rose?” Teddy asked again, more concerned this time. “Rose, what happened? What's wrong?” 

He put his hands on her shoulders, big brown eyes caught in a frown, and all of a sudden Rose just had to cover her face. She couldn't not tell him – this was _Teddy_ – but she didn't have to look at him while she did.

“Teddy, I'm really, _really_ sorry.” 

“What? Rosie, what are you talking about?” He only ever called her that when he was worried about her, and sure enough he tugged her into a hug, curling his much taller frame protectively around her. “You've got nothing to be sorry for, Rosie. Why would I ever be angry with you?”

“No, but--” she choked on her words again, and had to cough into the scratchy, wet wool over his chest before she could carry on. “--but I _did_ do something, Teddy, or maybe I should say I didn't do _anything_ , and I should have told you before but you weren't here and I didn't know what to say and so I just let it go, but I _shouldn't_ have and I'm just really, really sorry--”

She was babbling, she knew, but wasn't this just the problem? She honestly had no idea how to broach the topic, and so she'd let it be, and now it would be worse than ever. How could she have been such an idiot?

Teddy's hand was gentle as it brushed over her hair; when she'd been little and he'd done this, his fingers always used to get tangled in her curls, but now the strands lay obediently flat, just starting to flick around her ears and the back of her neck. “Come on, Rosie, just breathe and tell me what's wrong. I promise, it'll be fine. We're best friends forever, remember?”

And she did, she remembered that time when he picked her up and dusted her off after chasing away some other children who thought she got special treatment just because of who her parents were. He'd not said anything, and he'd looked so angry that she'd started to tremble again, curl in on herself and sniffle, until he'd tucked one finger under her chin and tipped her head up so that she was looking him in the eye. He'd been so serious. 

“You can tell me _anything_ , Rosie. I'll always help you, we're friends.”

She'd hiccuped, wiped her nose on the back of her hand. “Best friends?” 

And suddenly he'd grinned, and scooped her up into his arms, already tall and broad even as a teenager. “We're best friends forever, Rosie, that's what we are.”

They'd never talked about it again, and she hadn't even known he'd remembered it, but it made her smile despite herself as she took a deep breath.

“Teddy,” she started again, uncertain but determined, “You know Mum and Dad let me go stay with Vic for a couple of weeks as a treat after we finished school? Well, you see, while I was there--”

But then she realised Teddy's shoulders were shaking as he tried to muffle what seemed to be laughter. She pulled away and looked up at him, confused and a little bit upset at his apparent amusement.

“Shit, sorry, Rose, I'm not laughing at you, I promise. I just-- Victoire--” he broke off to laugh into his hand, shaking his head as he leant on her for support. She crossed her arms and glared, and she just knew that she was pouting.

Eventually, he managed to calm down and breathe again. “Phew, sorry, I just-- I think I know what this is about, and I'm just, well, surprised, I guess. I wasn't really expecting to have to get into this.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Vic didn't explain it to you, did she?”

Rose blinked once. “What? Teddy, what is there to explain? You _love_ Victoire! I've never even seen you look at someone else!” 

Teddy's expression was more bemused than anything. “Have you ever thought to look before? I do spend more than half of most years away for work, and you've had school. Is it that much of a surprise?”

“But-- but you're _in love_ with her!” Rose was stunned. She couldn't comprehend a world in which Teddy Lupin wasn't head-over-heels for Victoire Weasley.

He just smiled serenely and shrugged. “Yes,” he agreed simply.

“What, but she--” Rose started to protest, then she looked closer. Teddy's eyes had gone a little dopey, the way they always did when Victoire was mentioned, but they were clear and unashamed. “You're telling the truth,” she realised, utterly confused.

“Of course I am, silly. I've loved Victoire for years, everyone knows that.”

Rose felt like her brain was flipping over inside her skull. “But-- she-- while I was away--” 

His eyes got sort of steely then; it was an expression she wasn't used to seeing on Teddy's open, cheerful face. His shoulders straightened, and he seemed to grow an extra inch or two. “Victoire loves me just as much as I love her, Rose.”

No one could doubt that he meant it, that he believed it with every fibre in his body. But he had to be wrong, because Vic had-- and she hadn't--

Apparently, he read her confusion and relaxed again, taking pity on her. “Look, what me and Vic have-- well, we're happy, all right? Both of us love where our lives are right now, and neither of us wants to compromise. Maybe one day we'll settle down properly together, you know, get a house, maybe have some kids, turn into our parents...” She couldn't help but giggle at his wry tone, and it was like the whole atmosphere around them loosened. Everything really was going to be okay, even if she still didn't really understand. He beamed at her, sunny and bright in the dim light of the hall. “We'll both wait for each other, as long as we need to, but that doesn't mean we have to wait, you know? It's just--” he shrugged again, this time sort of helpless rather than self-assured. “Honestly, Rose, it never occurred to us to do this any other way; this is how it's been since we started. And we've always been open about it with each other, which is why I guess Vic never thought to explain it to you – we forget that most people, especially you guys, don't know about us. But I promise, we're in love and we're happy, okay?”

Rose frowned, thought about it, and then nodded cautiously. “So you really don't mind? I mean, you're not secretly jealous or--”

Teddy laughed again, warm and cosy. “I really don't mind, Rose. I know it's a cliché but being in love's an adventure, and it's taken us all over the world, and I trust Vic to always be there for me. We'll be there for each other.”

Rose gave him a tiny smile, still a little confused. She'd been feeling so terrible, been pushing this down for months, and now it turned out that this was normal for them? And then he shot her the cheekiest grin she'd ever seen.

“I'm just surprised it was _you,_ I mean, she tends to prefer men--”

“What?! Ted _dy_! That's not what I--” she hit him, pouting again as he cackled and danced away. “Idiot,” she muttered affectionately, sticking her tongue out at him.

He winked and wiggled his fingers at her in a silly little wave. “We're okay, Rose – me and Vic, and me and you. We're all okay. And, you know, if you _do_ ever want to find out just how in love we are then I'm sure I could--”

Rose blushed to the roots of her equally red hair and snatched up a festively-dressed teddy bear to throw at him. Teddy was laughing so hard that he forgot to duck and it hit him in the forehead, the little bell round its neck jingling madly.

“Your face, oh my god, your _face_ \--” He was laughing too hard to breathe properly, and with a “hmph” worthy of Aunt Fleur herself, Rose span on one heel and walked away, on to the bathroom she'd been heading for in the first place. Just as she turned to go upstairs, Teddy called after her and she felt a soppily fond grin slide across her face. Luckily, he couldn't see it.

“Merry Christmas, Rosie!”

“Merry Christmas to you too, moron, and welcome home!” 

If he made a reply, it was swallowed up in the surprised squeals and shouts of excitement as the rest of the extended Weasley-Potter clan realised that Teddy was back in time for roast dinner, but really, what more was there to say?


End file.
